It wasn’t easy, because I knew how insane all of this sounded. “One morning, I woke up and found the remote in the fridge. I thought maybe I’d done that without remembering, but I’ve never done anything like that before. Then there was the toilet seat thing . . .” As I spoke, Reece’s empty hand curled into a fist. “I hadn’t done that. I’m pretty sure of that. Then there was this other time when a new canvas had been hung on my easel. Little things like that—­things I couldn’t be sure if I’d done or not. I really thought my place might be haunted. I told my mom and Katie.” A short laugh escaped me. “I know that sounds stupid, but then . . .”

I’d never seen Reece as still as he was, standing in front of me or his arresting face so hard, as if every feature had been carved out of marble. “Then what?”

The tips of my ears burned. This was the last thing I wanted to mention in front of Hank and Nick. “The really creepy thing—­like as creepy as my picture being taken while I’m sleeping—­happened a ­couple of days ago. Tuesday morning,” I added, and Reece’s gaze sharpened as his chest rose. “I was putting the dishes in the dishwasher.”

“I remember that,” he said.

Okay. Well, I guessed we weren’t hiding anything at this point. “A pair . . .” I swallowed as the burn traveled across my cheeks. “A pair of my undies was stuffed in the utensils cubby. And yeah, I didn’t do that.”

“Jesus,” muttered Nick as he stood, scrubbing his hand through his hair. He glanced back at the kitchen, his lip curling like he was personally disgusted by the dishwasher.

Hank didn’t say anything. He just stared at me with what had to be a “what the fuck” expression if I’d ever seen one.

But it was Reece who caught and held my attention. He was as still as a statue as he continued to stare down at me. “Why didn’t you say anything?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

My shoulders suddenly sagged as a wave of exhaustion rolled over me. “We were talking about . . . other stuff at that moment and I didn’t . . .” I trailed off, shaking my head.

I knew the exact moment he realized the meaning of that. Blood pinked the hollow of his cheeks. That flush of anger was actually kind of scary, and if I hadn’t known deep down that it wasn’t directed at me, I would’ve been a wee bit frightened of him. A myriad of raw-­looking emotions flickered across his face. “I was here and . . .” He didn’t finish that line of thought. He turned toward the other officer. “I got this call, Hank.”

“But—­”

“I got this call,” he reiterated, voice hard enough to send a shiver across my skin.